


A Dream Visits the Queen

by rainbowodyssey



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Family, Gen, Pregnancy, Trojan War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 17:50:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainbowodyssey/pseuds/rainbowodyssey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She insisted: it wasn't just a first time mother's nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dream Visits the Queen

She knew she was dreaming despite the brightness of her surroundings. A fleet of wide-breasted warships lined the bay. She recognized it as Aulis, where she'd been as a girl to visit some faceless relatives. Funny, she thought, the wind was oddly stagnant, as if some great being held its mighty breath.

On the shore, where bristling sea grass reaches its threshold and gives way to sand, there stood a great golden executioner's block, prepared for sacrifice. It must have been of the tantamount importance, for as she scanned the beach, she met the faces of soldiers, priests, kings, and seers. To her far right she could make out Calchas, the court prophet. A solemn air of equal parts anticipation and cutting remorse hung over the assembly.

With the blink of an eye, the crowd had dispersed, ships departed and wind lashing violently across the shore. The golden block now dripped with wine red blood, pooling in an oblong ellipse, caking the sand into a gritty paste.

And so she opened her eyes, back into the Mycenaean night with her king and husband snoring beside her, with darling Iphigenia curled safely in her womb. She bolted upright, crying fat, angry tears and breathing hard through the bile in her throat and nose. Blinking hard to dry her eyes, she was received into her husband's arms, clenching her jaw through his inane spousal cooing.

Sobs caught in her chest and she could only hold onto her pride for so long until she willingly folded her hot cheek into the curve of Agamemnon's neck. Despite the platitudes he hoped to soothe her with, she insisted in a voice ragged from exasperation, that no, it wasn't going to be alright. Over his light-hearted jests at her maternal concern and his comforting strokes over her curved belly, she nearly shouted that no, it wasn't just a first time mother's nightmare.

The whole night Klytemnestra stared at the tiled ceiling and knew with all of her being that her unborn daughter was doomed, even before her first breath.


End file.
